


Considering

by Kerkerian



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Papa Jack, Tired Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: Sometimes, Mac just needs Jack to make things right...
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 94





	Considering

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own MacGyver.

On the afternoon of December 31st, Jack let himself into Mac's house with the key his friend had given him- ever since Murdoc, the times of leaving the front door unlocked during the day were over. Jack paused to listen, since the house was silent: “Mac?”

He told himself not to be silly, but he still felt relieved when he heard his friend's answer coming from the living room: “In here.”

Jack picked up both shopping bags he brought and headed towards the kitchen: he and Mac had agreed on a code, just in case. If anything had been amiss, he'd have used a different wording.

It actually felt strange to be using such precautionary measures, but. Their line of work was a dangerous one, after all.

Jack put the bags down on the counter: “What're you doing?” he called, even though he could now see his partner. Mac was lying on the couch, cocooned in a large blanket and writing something. All Jack could see was some tousled hair, part of a note pad and a pen. And now, Mac's eyes as he met Jack's, obviously craning his neck a little to do so.

“Nothing.” The answer was cryptic. “Just making a list.”

Hiding a frown, Jack kept glancing at the other while he put everything that needed cooling into the fridge; Mac's tone had been so deceivingly indifferent that Jack knew something was up. He made his way over to the living room, pushed Mac's feet aside and sat down, regarding the younger man: “You okay, buddy?”

Mac hummed evasively, his expression weary; they'd come back from Alaska late on the previous night after spending four days mostly in the blistering cold of the arctic tundra. And now Mac looked as though he hadn't slept much. And there's something else: the house was still decorated for Christmas, which seemed a lifetime ago, but now, not a single fairy light was lit.

Jack, who was familiar with his partner's silences, subdued a sigh: “Can I see that?” he asked instead, motioning towards the note pad Mac was holding. Wordlessly, Mac handed it to him.

The list read:

\- car crashes: 9 (not counting Hyderabad)

\- helicopter crashes: 2

\- abductions: 2

\- times held as hostage: 23

\- times gotten shot at: x

\- times actually got shot: 3

\- times was drugged: 4

\- boat crashes: 1

\- stolen cars: 16 (not counting Hyderabad)

\- times ended up in the hospital: 11

\- times had to jump out of a plane: 3

Jack looked up: “I take it this isn't a bucket list,” he said, somewhat lamely.

Mac sighed: “No, it isn't.”

Jack knew that the best way to get Mac to talk was to give him time to formulate his thoughts, so he remained silent and just waited.

“I don't know about you,” Mac accordingly said slowly a little while later, “but I was still freezing when we got home. Took me half an hour in the shower to get warm.”

At that, Jack wisely refrained from pointing out that Mac was too thin to have any isolation.

“And I had to look at the calendar to find out which date it was. Bummed me out, that's all.”

“Doesn't explain the list,” Jack said softly, though he now thought he had an inkling what was going on.

Mac fumbled with the hem of his blanket: “It's just... I wondered if this really is what I wanna do. You know... most people are not constantly putting their lives on the line for the sake of others.” His voice was thin now: “And they've got someone to come home to. Or they start their own family at one point.” He fell silent.

Jack pondered this. Bozer and Leanna were on a ski retreat, which had been her Christmas present for him. Mac had come home to an empty house after four less than pleasant days. Jack had too, but he was used to it, and he was older; he had long since stopped believing in the whole spirit of Christmas and all that ado. After he had left Diane, he had tried to accept the fact that his job wasn't exactly ideal for any relationship. It had taken some time, but he had eventually resigned himself to being alone; there were other things in life he enjoyed, after all.

Later, after meeting Sarah, there was a time during which his hopes were raised again, considering that she actually knew what he was doing and was fine with it because she was doing the same. However, when that didn't work out either, he went back to his solitude with additional bruising on his heart and the firm intention never to fall for someone again. And then he met Mac. Whom he didn't fall for as such, but after their initial difficulties had been resolved, he came to love that guy as if they actually were family. Who somehow had managed to become the most important living person on the planet for him. And he couldn't bear to see him hurting.

“Could've called me,” he now said gently. “I'd have come over so you'd have had some company.”

Mac's tired expression softened: “You were _so_ exhausted, Jack,” he murmured. “I'd never have asked you to give up your well-earned rest for me.”

Jack raised an eyebrow: “Do you know how often I've already done that? Sat up next to a hospital bed even though I could barely keep my own eyes open because I just couldn't leave you alone?”

“About eleven times this year?” Mac quipped, but his expression was serious. Without fail, Jack had been there for him, no matter how bad it was and even when he was injured himself. Well, at least if it wasn't bad enough to land him in the adjoining bed.

“Damn right,” Jack muttered. “And I'd gladly do it all over again. Hell, I probably will.”

Mac inclined his head: “This is different, though,” he pointed out. “No hand holding.” A minuscule grin quirked up the corners of his mouth.

“Still.” Jack felt it was important to drive his point home. “I could've crashed here, on the couch.” And he would have, if Mac had needed him to, which they were both aware of.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, then Mac took a deep breath: “Thanks,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“You know what? Next time, I'll just come with you,” Jack continued. “As long as you don't expect me to shower with you, of course.”

With an actual grin, Mac poked him in the thigh with his toe: “Jerk,” he muttered affectionately.

Jack regarded him, holding up the list for a moment: “So,” he said. “This makes for quite a reading.”

“Yeah.”

“Think you'd really prefer a normal job?” Jack's tone was carefully light, but Mac heard the underlying concern nevertheless.

“Nah,” he said after a moment. “Probably not. Though I could do without a lot of that.” He motioned towards the note pad.

“Well,” Jack patted his leg. “For now, you're safe. I've put in a good word with Matty to only volunteer us if for some reason the end of the world's imminent and they can't get a hold of James Bond. So I bought some treats; time we indulge our good selves with some home-cooked food after eating nothing but snow for the past few days.” He grinned.

“Sounds good,” Mac said.

“I though so.” Jack got to his feet and began to plug in all the fairy lights. “Matty and Riley are going to come over later. You know, so we'll have the family together. Minus Bozer.”

Mac's eyes, which were following Jack as he moved around the room, lit up with the first real smile Jack had seen on him since Christmas.

“Sounds even better,” he said softly.

Jack crouched down next to him: “You're not alone, kid,” he said in an equally low voice. “I thought you knew that.”

At that, Mac blushed a little: “I do,” he replied. “Really. I just... I was in a really funky mood yesterday.”

“I get that,” Jack said. “And I'm not gonna repeat myself, but then you should also know that having your back means having it 24/7, all year round. No matter how tired I am. Are we clear on that?”

“Yeah.” Mac regarded him, looking much younger all of a sudden and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable, and once again, Jack was struck by how much he loved this kid.

“Good. Now take that note pad and add 'times almost drowned: 1', or did you forget about the Thames?”

“Huh.” Mac frowned. “Right. But it's actually two times.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. When we were in Nicaragua-”

“Nicar- are you kidding me? I pulled you out before you could even _begin_ to drown!”

“Wrong. I was already past the 'seeing stars and having your life flash in front of your eyes' stage.”

“I didn't even have to resuscitate you, buddy. You're such a drama queen sometimes!”

Mac shrugged: “Only when it comes to drowning.”

Shaking his head, Jack got to his feet: “I better get started on my world-famous _potatoes au gratin_.”

“Mind if I close my eyes for a bit? Or do you need my help?”

“I'm good,” Jack said. “And it'd probably take forever to peel the potatoes with your little knife anyway.”

Grinning broadly, he sauntered off.

Rolling his eyes but unable to stop himself from smiling, Mac put the note pad and his pen aside and burrowed deeper into his blanket, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen: he felt better now, grounded, and in hindsight, he wasn't quite sure why he had been so maudlin earlier, or why he'd ever want something other than this, crazy and unusual as it may be.

He drifted off to the sounds Jack made while he was cooking; all was well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not a Native Speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes!


End file.
